


Sirens

by Tantaylor



Category: Duran Duran
Genre: Anger, M/M, Talking, sm, statement shirts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-19
Updated: 2020-09-19
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:14:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26543524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tantaylor/pseuds/Tantaylor
Summary: Something about Roger calls for Nick. Sweet as siren song. But it can't be. Or can it?
Relationships: Nick Rhodes/Roger Taylor (Duran Duran)
Comments: 5
Kudos: 6





	Sirens

**Author's Note:**

> English is not my mother tongue, no beta.  
> Please leave feedback  
> Thank you

This thing with Roger was beginning to get really exhausting.

He was the maker, the controller. No one was fooling him.  
He had himself absolutely under control. Always. 

But there was this thing with Roger. This thing that was most likely just in his head. The thing that slowly but surely drove him nuts.

Roger, the drummer. Roger, his bandmate. Roger, who was also his friend, sort of.  
They had never been particularly close; they were just too different.  
That's why it couldn't be. He couldn't have been attracted to Roger.

It could not be. Period.  
Well, Roger had come out to them a few years ago, and that was a shock to Nick, to say the least.

It was easier to deny this attraction as long as he could tell himself that Roger was straight as an arrow. A lot easier.  
He could not risk getting too close to Roger. He was not allowed to show Roger who he really was, what he really wanted.

That would ruin everything, everything he had fought for so long. Things were finally going well again. They had coped with Andy's renewed departure, Dom had fitted into the band perfectly, everything was fine.

Everything was good. And it should stay that way.

Nick's sexual secrets had to stay far away from the band, very far away.  
He could not give in to this temptation, this siren song in his head.  
Probably it was all in his imagination anyway.  
He saw things that were not there, felt things that were not real. And slowly but surely it became really exhausting.

Once, shortly after Andy left the band for the second time, he had simply wanted to ask Roger. Quite innocuous, from gay band mate to gay band mate.

Roger, so, you`re gay, my, that is a surprise, if you don`t mind my saying. But, you know, I`ve been thinking. There`s something about you. 

_-Something that is calling out for me like a siren song-_

Say, Rog, could it be that you are not only gay but

_-submissive? Your calm gentleness, your absolute lack of drama, is it what I think it is? Do you want to surrender, do you want to be guided, do you like pain, are all these muscles on this pretty body just a facade, do you want to be weak, do you want...-_

He stood in front of Roger`s hotel room, determined to ask, just ask, when this other voice came up.

_\- What if I`m wrong? What if he will be disgusted by me? What if he`ll leave again just like Ands did?-_

To ask him that would have meant revealing his own self. His dominant, sadistic self, which had no place in this band. And the band was the most important thing. Keeping them all together, he had made this his top priority. He had once let them go without a fight, all three Taylors, and now, with Andy leaving, history seemed to repeat itself. He would not let that happen. 

No, he couldn't risk that just because he thought Roger might be the one he had always been looking for.  
It was silly. Yes, silly. It was all in his head. After all, they weren't even very close.  
And now another man had appeared. A man who was like Nick. A man who made everything more complicated.

Nick rubbed his aching temples and caught a worried look from John.

He forced himself to smile.

 _Concentrate on the sound check. Don't look over at the drums._  
But of course he did. He looked over. Like he always did.

God, it was exhausting. It gave him a headache. 

He could barely see Roger behind all those setups. Cymbals, electric drums, all those things that were hiding him.  
But he could hear him. His deep, calm voice while he talked to his drum tech, Kevin.  
Then a soft laugh. Everything about Roger was kind of soft and quiet.

And yet it was not shyness, not like in the eighties. It was more as if he was resting in himself, as if he was waiting patiently for something. As if he had accepted himself, accepted who he was, and was waiting for someone to accept him for what he was.

Siren song.

_Stop it, Rhodes! It`s so pathetic! Waiting for someone, yeah, waiting for you, for sure!_

Kevin the tech gave Rog a friendly hair ruffle before he backed off, waving at them all as he left the stage.

Nick envied the older man. Envied him for his closeness to Roger, for the ease with which they treated each other.

Practically everyone had that ease when it came to Roger.  
Everyone except him.

And then there was Dave, their tour manager. The other man. An openly gay man with an obvious interest in Roger.  
An interest that really made Nick sick. Because he recognised in Dave what he himself was. At least that's what he believed. Roger's siren song had attracted another Dom.  
The headache got worse when he saw Dave in front of the stage. When he saw Dave looking at Roger. And his stomach turned as the drummer winked at the tour manager.

_No. Please, no!_

For the very first time in history, Nick Rhodes, the controller, missed his turn.  
Roger counted up again. Very calm and gentle. 

One, two, three, four, click click click click.

Somehow Nick made it through the soundcheck, made it through the concert later.

Dave had been standing right in front of the stage again. And staring at Roger. Lustful. Greedy.

He looked at Roger the way Nick had forbidden himself all along.  
He just wanted to disappear into his room after the show, with a bottle of Merlot to numb his raging jealousy.

Dave and Roger. Roger and Dave. Headaches, nausea, helplessness.  
He should have asked Roger, back then. He should have revealed himself. Because if Dave was like him, and if Dave felt what Nick felt, then it wasn't imagination. Then it was really there.  
The siren song. The call.  
The call it was now probably too late to follow. 

Unfortunately, Nick could not simply retire to his room.

It was the last concert of the tour, he had to show up at the after show party, he as the creative head of the band, as a founding member.  
It was the farewell party for the whole crew, it would be disrespectful not to show up. 

As he took the lift down to the bar with a heavy heart, he realised that it would also be a farewell to Dave. The tour was over. They wouldn't need him anymore.

That cheered him up a little.

But only until the moment he entered the bar.  
He saw Roger immediately. And he saw Roger's t-shirt. And Dave, who was staring straight at Roger's ass. 

Then everything got out of control. Everything. 

A white, hot flash of jealousy, desire and anger blinded the controller.

“Have you gone completely mad? Why not come naked! Why don't you just go ahead and draw "fuck me" on your chest, Roger? What the hell is wrong with you?” he screamed and pulled out to punch Roger right in the face.  
His blow was stopped with a hard grip around his wrist.

“You are such an idiot, Nick Rhodes. Such an utter idiot, really!” 

His voice was calm. Calm and gentle. He let go of Nick`s wrist, turned and left.  
It was ghostly silent. Everyone was staring at Nick.

And then it was Dave, of all people, who spoke first.

"Go after him, you pathetic fool. Go after him, and quickly, or I will!”

_God! Oh God! What have I done? How could this happen?_

Nick blinked. There was John. Staring.  
Simon. Staring.  
Dom. Staring.

_Dom! Hahahaha! Dom!_

Anna. Erin. Kev the tech. Staring.

And Dave. Dave knew. Dave knew, just like Nick had known. They were the same. They wanted the same thing. They both heard it, that bloody siren call.

Dave, who was just like him, Dave the enemy, was suddenly the only person in this room who understood what was going on.

"All the time I thought it was impossible. I thought I was imagining it. All this time, Dave, for years,” he said quietly.  
“Yeah, you idiot, that makes two of you. Now go, Rhodes. I'm not the one you need to talk to.”

_Oh yeah, right. Talk. Apologize. Explain. Sort of. Rip this goddamn shirt off his body. Spank his ass. Make him prove what's on this fucking shirt._

Nick felt all their glances in his back as he slowly left the bar. He had made a complete idiot of himself, that much was clear. 

But that was nothing, nothing at all compared to what was yet to come.

The lift took a long time, much longer than usual, to reach the fourth floor. Even the hotel corridor was suddenly longer. Infinitely long.

Room 47. Roger`s room. 

He knocked. Knocked again.

“Come in, Nick. It`s open.”

It was dark inside. Dark except for the light of the illuminated advertising on the other side of the street. The balcony door was open and Nick smelled cigarette smoke.

Roger leaned against the balustrade, his back to him.

Nick stood beside him. Close enough that he could smell him, but not so close that he touched him.

"Would you like a cigarette?" Roger offered.

"I don't smoke anymore, thank you.”

"Do you mind if I smoke?"

“No. I'm sorry, Roger, I actually acted like an idiot. Please forgive me.”

“Why? Just explain why.”

“Dave. This stupid shirt. The way Dave was staring at your ass.”

“And why, Nick, why should it be any of your business what shirt I'm wearing and who's staring at my ass?”

“You shouldn't offer yourself up like that, Roger. It pisses me off. It makes me angry that another...that Dave looks at you so lustfully, and your absolutely cheap shirt encourages him!”

“Oh, I could tell it was making you angry! But you still haven't told me why.”

They didn't look at each other, they both looked stubbornly straight ahead, at the glaring neon sign across the street.

“I am insanely jealous.” Nick said quietly. “Especially because I know that Dave is like me.”

“An arrogant, know-it-all asshole? You could be right about that. There`s zero reason to be jealous, though.”

_He`s close. I think he`s never been so close. I hear it. I hear it louder than ever._

Well, hearing was perhaps the wrong expression. It was like those dog whistles that made sounds at a frequency that the human ear could not hear. In this case it was something that only certain people heard. People like Nick. And Dave. A sound on Dom frequency.

“I am sorry,” he repeated, then took a deep breath. “I don't want other dominant men looking at you like that, and I don't want you to wear such striking shirts.”

“Again, what makes you think you have any right to decide what I wear or who looks at me? Did I miss something here, Nick? When exactly did I become your sub, since when do any dress rules apply to me? You never showed the slightest interest in me, ever.”

“I could never be sure, Roger. I could never be sure that I wasn't imagining all this. And then what? If I'd come to you, which I wanted to do, by the way, shortly after Andy left, if I'd told you, Roger, I'm getting signals from you, I think you're the submissive counterpart to my dominance, and I'd have been wrong, then what?”  
Nick turned his head to finally look at Roger, but he was still staring at the neon sign.  
A soft, barely noticeable nod.

"Okay, I understand that. It was the same for me. I mean, apart from the fact that I'm really old-fashioned and think the Dom should take the first step.”

_Oh, bloody fuck. Was that an invitation? Should I, right here, right now? Just like that?_

The idea was more than just tempting.  
But there was still the band. There were still so many things that could go wrong.

“I'm not a player, Roger. I am strict. I ask a lot. I am sadistic. And I love rules. I love control. Always. After what I just did, it's hard to imagine, I know. First I miss my cue during sound check because you wink at Dave, then I come at you...so much about control, huh?”

“You`re only human. I also confess that it is a little bit flattering. Unexpected, but flattering. And if it had not happened, we would not be standing here talking right now. I'm not a player either. I... I like rules. I am sometimes...sometimes I find it hard to be submissive because I am quite stubborn, and I need strictness. Consistency. Otherwise I can't let go. Pain is easier, less subtle. Would you like to see my Pain slut T-shirt? “

“Not if you still want to be able to sit at your drums tomorrow.”

“Not that I have to, because the tour is over.”

“Are you provoking me right now, Roger? Should that T-shirt you're wearing provoke me too?”

“Yes, I'm provoking you. No, the T-shirt I'm wearing was not meant to provoke you. It's just a statement. Because today is the beginning of pride month. June. But if I had known how you would react, I would have put it on a long time ago.”

“I hope you are not too attached to it, because you will never put it on again. And I sincerely hope that the Pain-slut T-shirt was a stupid joke.”

“The shirt was, the statement was not.”

Roger still looked stubbornly ahead. He trembled slightly, and Nick didn't believe it was the wind coming up.

The sirens sang, sweet and tantalising.  
Nick took the first step.  
It was very simple. And it felt right.

"Go inside. Take it off I'll check the accuracy of those statements.”

Roger did not hesitate. Not for a second. Still walking, he pulled the T-shirt over his head.

Power bottom.

That's what it said.

And it was true.  
So was the pain-slut-thing.

The sirens were right.


End file.
